“But he was so... cold about it. So dismissive.”
“Aye, because the man has all the emotional expression of a stone wall,” Aliana said with exasperation. “But that doesnae mean he doesnae feel things. It just means he doesnae ken how to show them properly.”
Iris sank into the chair by the window, mulling this over. “So ye think he wasnae tryin’ to insult me?”
“I think he saw what looked like chaos and did what he always does, took control. But I also think he probably realized afterward that he handled it badly, which is why he’s been broodin’ around the castle like a thundercloud all afternoon.”
“Has he really?”
“Oh aye. Henry mentioned that the Laird spent most of their practice time hour starin’ at into the air, lookin’ like he’d lost his best horse.” Aliana grinned. “Whatever ye said to him in yer chambers afterward, it got under his skin.”
Despite herself, Iris felt a flutter of satisfaction. “Good. Maybe he’ll think twice before interferin’ again.”
Aliana’s expression grew serious. “Me lady, if ye want to make this work, truly work, nae just survive, ye’ll have to find a way to communicate with him. Otherwise, ye’ll spend the rest of yer marriage fightin’ battles ye daenae need to fight.”
Iris stared out the window, watching the last of the evening light fade from the sky. Was Aliana right? Had she misinterpreted Elijah’s actions?
Maybe he wasnae tryin’ to humiliate me. Maybe he really was just tryin’ to help in his own ham-fisted way.
“Ye might be right,” she admitted finally. “But that doesnae make it less frustratin’.”
“Of course, nae. But understandin’ his reasons doesnae mean ye have to accept his methods. Ye can still tell him how ye want things handled in the future.”
“If he’ll listen.”
“Oh, he’ll listen,” Aliana said with confidence. “That man might be stubborn as an ox, but he’s nae stupid. And from what I’ve seen, yer opinion matters to him more than he wants to admit.”
Before Iris could ask what she meant by that, a soft knock came at the door.
“Come in,” she called.
A young servant girl peeked her head inside. “Beggin’ yer pardon, le lady, but Cook wanted me to tell ye that supper will be ready shortly. She’s prepared yer favorite, roast lamb with rosemary, just like ye requested.”
“Thank ye, Abigail I’ll be down soon.”
After the girl left, Aliana gathered up the sewing she’d been working on. “Will ye think about what I said? About talkin’ to the Laird?”
“Aye,” Iris nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
But as she prepared for supper, she found herself dreading the meal. Would Elijah be there? Would they sit in awkward silence, or would he bring up the afternoon’s events? And what would she say if he did?
One day at a time. Just get through supper without startin’ another fight.
The next morning, Iris made her way to the great hall with careful deliberation. She and Elijah had not discussed things further when they retired to their chamber. He had quietly changed into a lighter shirt for sleep and bid her goodnight without so much as gracing her with a glance.
Iris had spent half the night thinking about her conversation with Aliana, and by the time sleep claimed her, she’d decided to approach the new day with an open mind. Maybe they could find a way to have discussions without it devolving into another argument.
She woke up to find Elijah was gone, and she dressed quickly to join him for breakfast. But the moment she entered the great hall, her resolve wavered.
Elijah was seated at the high table, his posture rigid and formal. Beside him sat Codie, and gone was the happy, animated child from yesterday’s garden adventure. In his place sat the subdued little figure she’d met when she first arrived, his shoulders hunched, his attention focused entirely on his porridge.
Iris felt her heart shatter into pieces.
“Good mornin’,” she muttered, settling into her chair with careful grace.
“Mornin’, Lady Iris,” Codie mumbled without looking up from his bowl.
“Good mornin’, Codie. Did ye sleep well?”
